Engaging Conversations
by KADH
Summary: There is love and laughter and a little mystery involved when Grissom and Sara begin to plan a life together. Part of the Convergence Sequence. Follows “Admitting Impediments” and takes place circa late Spring 2008.
1. One

**Engaging Conversations**

There is love and laughter and a little mystery involved when Grissom and Sara begin to plan a life together.

_Part of the Time series. Follows "The Good Fight," "Closing Arguments," "Reconciliation" and "Admitting Impediments" __and takes places post season eight, circa__ February 200__9._

XXXXXXX

**One**

"You packed lightly," Sara said simply as she helped Grissom put away

his small stock of freshly laundered clothes.

After seeing the rather sorry state of Sara's side of the small closet,

Grissom thought he could have probably said the same thing to her, but even after ﬁnally having been able to share the last few days with her with a certain measure of unguarded openness, he was still a little nervous about undermining the hard-won quiet sense of contentment that had gradually begun to reemerge between them.

He was therefore markedly relieved to hear the hint of a tease there when she asked, "Not planning to stay for very long?"

"Hardly."

As she watched him hang up the last of his shirts, she said with a slight shake of the head, "What did you do, jump on the highway as soon as you hit the door?"

He smiled. His actions hadn't been as impulsive as all that. Although it was true that he hadn't bothered to return home after his talk with Greg. He hadn't needed to. He always kept a few changes of clothes and a modest supply of toiletries in the trunk of his car in case of unforeseen emergencies.

He had spent the intervening hours until Ecklie was scheduled to be in taking care of the paperwork on his desk. An effort that had not proven to be all that daunting of an enterprise as the last several months of working primarily double-shifts had provided him with ample time to complete his much loathed administrative duties. He couldn't remember the last time Conrad had had to ask him for a much as a weekly stats report.

Knowing her to be an early riser, Grissom had called Robin a little after six to make sure she could take care of Hank. The dog sitter had, as always, proved buoyantly enthusiastic at the prospect of having Hank stay with her.

While he was in part very grateful for this, there were still times when he had to wonder if one day Robin would refuse to let him take his dog home. As

Hank had probably spent more time in the young woman's company than his own as of late, he was also a little afraid that the time might come when Hank just might refuse to go home with him.

Once his interview with the assistant director had gone entirely according to plan, or at least had produced the intended outcome, he had hurried back to his office to get ready to leave. He had barely registered the presence of Nick and Greg before he was out the door.

"Not exactly," he told Sara. "I had to make a stop ﬁrst."

"For coffee?" She queried, sounding amused.

Grissom paused for a moment. Thinking of the past few days, he considered that perhaps, it wasn't too soon -- or too late -- to make good on a promise he had mentally made to Sara months ago.

"No," he answered with a soft smile. Taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm his sudden nerves, he bent down and unzipped the side of his overnight bag and withdrew a small velvet covered box. As he straightened up, he said, "To pick this up."

He turned to face her. "I meant to give it to you sooner... I mean even before... Ever since the day with the bees really... But I wanted to get it cleaned up and resized ﬁrst." He extended the box to her. "I think the jeweler was hoping I had just forgotten about it."

Sara simply stared at it.

"It won't bite if you take it," Grissom said. There was a still hint of anxiety even in this attempt at humor.

He watched her slowly reach out and close her ﬁngers around it. She looked rather pale and her eyes went wide as she eased the box open to reveal what lay inside.

"I know it's probably a little old-fashioned for your taste --" Grissom began apologetically.

"It's beautiful," Sara breathed.

"But I wanted you to have it," he continued to explain as if he hadn't heard her. "It belonged to my grandmother. But if you want..."

Sara stopped him in mid-sentence with a soft, yet insistent kiss.

Grissom had never so loved being interrupted in his life and would have gladly welcomed the prospect of being cut off more frequently if that was how

Sara was going to do it from now on.

For her part, Sara was trying desperately not to cry.

She had so few relics from her family (not that she really wanted any anyway) and knew that Grissom didn't possess that many more (and had good reason to value his so highly), so the idea that he wanted to give her something that precious and valuable to him touched her more than she had words to say. And while she understood that the act of marriage by its nature involved a certain sense of welcome and initiation into another family, his gift reinforced the idea that he really wanted to make her a part of his.

As she pulled away, he gave her a steadier smile. "That was a lot more enthusiastic response than what I got from Nicole Daley."

Sara frowned slightly, "Who?"

"She was the last person I tried to give it to."

When her face seemed darken, Grissom laughed. "It was second grade.

We were nine, Sara," he explained. "And my mother made me get the ring back."

Still a little nonplussed, she said, "You asked a girl to marry you when you were nine?"

"Yes, the ﬁrst, last and only time. Before you of course." When she continued to look incredulous, he added, "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I liked bugs. She liked bugs. Turns out she drew the line at dead things."

At this, Sara couldn't help but chuckle. Grissom gave her a mock hurt glance before he told her, his voice turning serious again, "Perhaps I should have waited... To give it to you." He gestured to the ring in her hand. "Done it the right way, at least this time -- taken you out properly, gotten down on one knee --"

She kissed him quiet again.

"I like your way better," she assured him. "I always have."

He returned her kiss wholeheartedly, feeling as if a great weight of uncertainty had been lifted off his shoulders. After a few moments, they both had to break away for air.

"The answer's still_ yes_, by the way," Sara said, indicating that he should take the box back. When she extended her left hand, he ﬁnally understood her intention and carefully extracted the ring and slid it onto her ﬁnger where he was very happy to ﬁnd that it ﬁt perfectly.


	2. Two

**Two**

"How do you feel about waiting?" Grissom asked as he toyed with the last of the remaining noodles on his plate.

"For?" Sara queried, looking up from her salad. Then sensing his apprehension and knowing too well its source answered her own question with, "You mean about getting married?"

He nodded. "We never really got a chance to talk about it before..."

Sara's smile faltered a little at this. While Grissom never blamed her for leaving, he knew she still blamed herself. He reached across the table and caressed her cheek. She appeared to revive somewhat at this.

She seemed to be considering her response for a while. He was relieved to see that there was a hint of mischief in her eyes when she confessed, "You know me, I'm not very patient."

He laughed. "Waiting for more than ten years isn't patient?" He asked.

"Point taken," she admitted with a conciliatory grin. "But as much as it was all worth it, I don't really want to wait another ten years."

Grissom thought this was fair. "What do you want, Sara?"

"The same thing I've always wanted. _You_."

"I'm not trying to play into a stereotype here," he began. "But don't women dream about how their weddings are suppose to be?"

"I suppose they do," she replied. "After a while, I honestly never really gave it much thought. Never thought it would happen anyway, so why waste my time thinking about it?"

The idea that Sara had valued her desirability so lightly made Grissom's heart ache a little and then a great deal more as he recalled that he had probably not contributed in a positive way to convincing her otherwise. He was trying to ﬁgure out just how to apologize for this when she interrupted his train of thought with -

"Besides, I've never really understood all the fanfare. Remember that

Chase wedding a couple of years ago?"

"You mean the one where we managed to loose the evidence on the way back to the lab?"

"We didn't loose anything. It was _stolen_," Sara protested. "But yeah, that one. I don't want to get married like that."

Grissom smiled.

"You don't look too disappointed," she said.

"I'm not," he answered. "While I haven't really given much thought to weddings either..."

"Well, not since you were nine..." Sara teased.

"You are never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Perhaps not _never_, but not for a little while," she chuckled. "You were saying?"

"I have to admit I would prefer something more intimate."

"A church wedding?" She asked.

"No."

"What about the whole holy sacrament of marriage thing and all of that?"

"I have never regarded the church as the sole place to be near to God," he replied.

"Well?"

Suddenly, Grissom's eyes lit up.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Of course I do."

"Then give me a minute," he said and before she could say anything, he had gotten up from the table and retreated into the lobby, pulling out his cell phone and dialing as he went.

Although rather perplexed by abrupt departure, Sara didn't begin to feel uneasy until after the end of the ﬁrst ﬁve minutes. After a second ﬁve passed, she started to get concerned. Once another subsequent ﬁve minutes had ticked away, she was worried. By the time a full twenty had come and gone, she was about to go and track him down and give him a piece of her mind for making her panic for what she knew right well was for no good reason.

When he ﬁnally did return, he was all smiles and looking not the least bit apologetic. Her annoyance didn't last long as he said as soon as he sat down,

"How does a week from today sound?"

The sentence seemed almost nonsensical; it was almost as if he were simply asking her when he should schedule Hank's next visit to the vet instead of suggesting a date for them to become husband and wife.

When she made no immediate reply, he looked a little crestfallen. "Too soon?" He granted reluctantly.

Sara smiled and shook her head, absolutely amazed and yet readily accepting the fact that Gil Grissom was indeed a man full of surprises.

"No, it sounds perfect."


	3. Three

**Three**

They were in the middle of dessert and coffee when Sara put down her spoon and turned to Grissom and said, "So, are you going to let me in on any of your plans?"

He took a long sip of coffee before he answered, "Would you be upset if I said no?"

She thought about it for a moment before she shook her head and replied with an amused sigh, "No."

"Good," he said as if the whole thing were now settled.

Sara reached over to steal a bite of his chocolate mouse cake. He shot her a _don't you dare glare, _which she countered with a _who me?_ raise of the eyebrows, before he grinned and nudged his plate closer to her. She slid her half-eaten crème brûlée next to it.

"So, I am just supposed to show up then?" She asked.

"Not entirely," he replied and helped himself to her desert.

"Do I at least get to pick the dress?" She teased, trying to sound vexed and annoyed, but failing miserably at the attempt.

"Naturally."

They had a brief but silent battle over the last slice of mango, with Grissom ﬁnally conceding defeat under the guise of a great deal of pretend protest.

"What's the dress code?" She asked, passing him the raspberry as a sign of conciliation.

"Surprise me," he replied with an impish grin.

She shot him a _you're being incorrigible _glare.

"You might want to bring something to cover your shoulders," he supplied.

"Will it be early or late?"

"More late than early."

"Can you be more speciﬁc, _Gilbert_?"

At the use of his full ﬁrst name, Grissom's eyebrow rose. Although he was pretty sure she was more teasing than annoyed. But he knew how to play the game as well as she did. So he answered, "5:32 p.m."

"That's certainly qualiﬁes as more speciﬁc," Sara admitted. "Exacting actually."

He peered up at her from over his coffee cup as he retorted playfully, "I like to be exact."

She almost choked on her own drink. She took a moment to compose herself before asking, "Do I have to wear white?"

"Of course not."

"Promise to_ love and to honor and to obey_?"

"Well the love part would be nice," Grissom answered. "But as for the rest, no. We can write our own vows if you like."

"That's puts me at a slight disadvantage..." Sara sighed.

"How do you ﬁgure that?"

"Your knowledge base when it comes to such things far outstrips mine."

"Meaning?"

"You always know just the right quotation for every occasion," she told him matter of factly.

"When it come to you my dear, I am sad to say that is hardly the case," he confessed. "You often render me utterly speechless."

She smiled, "I think I shall take that as a compliment."

"You should," he answered. "And I promise no quotations." He took another bite of mousse before asking, "Are you going to tell me the color of your dress?"

Sara shook her head and retorted ﬂippantly, "Now you know how it feels."

Grissom grinned, "Fair enough."

"Anything else I should know?"

"Wear comfortable shoes."

At this, he went back to ﬁnishing dessert.

_Series continued in "When the Dead Can't Wait."_


End file.
